


Yellow Eyes of a Stranger

by AlyciaTremblay



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Amnesia, Angst with a Happy Ending, I Made Myself Cry, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Memory Loss, Past Child Abuse, Pining
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-09-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:34:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25817356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlyciaTremblay/pseuds/AlyciaTremblay
Summary: Kenma and Kuroo were busy planning their lives together when Kenma gets into a horrible accident and looses all his memories.When he finally awakes from his coma, Kenma struggles to make sense of everything that is going on. All these people are there to tell him who he is. But he feels like there are things they are keeping from him. There is this kind tall man there to take care of him. A man who tells him they've known each other their whole lives. But he has the eyes of a stranger.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou, Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou
Comments: 23
Kudos: 71





	1. Prologue

_My name is Kenma. My name is Kenma. I think. They told me my name is Kozume Kenma._

_When I look in the mirror, it’s a stranger looking back at me. They told me that's normal. They told me it will get better. They told me not to worry. But I don’t know who this face is. Who am I?_ _Was I a quiet man? A loud one? Did I prefer cats or dogs? I’m not even sure what those are. But they are words in my head. Apparently they mean something. There are a lot of words in my head that I seem to know but I don't know what they mean._

_Full memory loss. That’s what they told me happened. I was lucky, they told me. I should have died. Apparently I was in a coma for over a month. The accident was bad. Guess I’ll never take public transit again._

_They told me it would be easier if I wrote in this book every day. But I’m not sure what it’s supposed to help with. I think it's supposed to help me remember. I don’t know how it’s supposed to help. But I’m doing it._

_The tall man visited me yesterday, again. He comes almost every day. I think I should know who he is. But I don’t. He talks to me like he knows me. But I don’t know him. He has these strange yellow eyes. They kind of look like mine. He smiles at me a lot. But it's a very sad smile. I think he’s sad that I don’t know him._

_Sometimes he brings this loud man and a quiet man. They knew me too, I think. The loud man’s hair is funny. He reminds me of an owl. And the quiet man looks at him a lot. He touches his arm when he gets too loud. He’s very sweet._

_I keep forgetting their names. I keep forgetting a lot of things. But apparently that’s normal with amnesia._

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

The overcast sky was not a good sign. Kenma sighed and checked his bag. He’d forgotten his umbrella again. He could almost feel Kuroo’s catlike yellow eyes burrowing a hole in his head and his disapproving voice echoing in his ear “you always forget even after I told you it was going to rain”. It was fine. His hoodie should be enough. But the walk from the campus to their apartment would be rather long in the pouring rain. Public transit, it seemed, was going to have to do.

He didn’t like cabs. Too intimate. The drivers always wanted to talk to him. Ask him about his day, did he have a girlfriend, what did he do for a living, all things he didn't not want to impart to a stranger. Or they would talk about their lives. Usually about their kids, and their wife who talks too much, she always talked to much, but she was a good cook, or cleaner, or the sex was nice. They were always the worst. Why tell a stranger about your sex life?

He didn’t like buses either, but at least if he put in some headphones and played a game on his phone people would leave him alone. And hopefully it wouldn’t be too packed. It was early enough in the day that there shouldn’t be too many people on the bus. At least that was his hope.

Just as he reached the bus stop the sky opened up and soft water droplets started falling from the grey sky. He let out a breath through his nose and sunk back into the bench, thankful for the covering from the rain. He pulled out his phone and keyed up a little phone game to pass the time. It wasn’t long before a bus arrived. There were a few people at his stop, and thankfully only a few on the bus already.

He pulled out his campus ID card from his back pocket and held it in his hands through his hoodie’s central front pocket. The hoodie wasn't his, it was Kuroo’s and it was clearly too big. A bright red one that reminded him of their highschool days. But he liked wearing Kuroo’s clothes. Especially his hoodies, they felt like a big warm hug. It made it feel like he was always near, a big protective figure to ward off the pain and cold of the world. Just like always.

He stood up and quietly followed the lineup of students piling onto the bus in a single line. He stepped on board and scanned the bus for a seat by itself and away from people. Up at the back by a window looked perfect. He scanned his card and shuffled to the back, head down and hood up covering most of his face. He didn’t like having a wide field of view.

Seven stops and he would be home and dry. There was some pie from the night before with his name all over it waiting for him in the fridge. He licked his lips in anticipation. It had been tantalizing him all day, playing beautifully just out of reach as he made his way through his classes. He had tried to eat it for breakfast but Kuroo caught him and immediately stopped him.

“You’re not having pie for breakfast. Not when I already made you food.” Kuroo had said, holding the plate above his head. Kenma had contemplated climbing him for it, but was afraid that Kuroo might drop it. And that would be a crying shame.

He had pouted, but Kuroo’s stance was firm. He tried flirting his way to the pie, but that had also failed. But, to be fair, he was a miserable flirt. That was always Kuroo’s job. He was the one that was good at flirting. A little too good. It had gotten him into and out of trouble on more than one occasion.

His phone started buzzing, cutting off the music playing through his headphones. _Speak of the devil_ , Kenma thought with a little smile.

“What do you want, Kuro?” Kenma asked, keeping his voice hush. There was a woman with her little baby and he didn’t want to bother her. The baby looked so peaceful resting in her arms.

He didn’t like phone calls, and rarely ever answered them. But if it was Kuroo, he would always answer.

“Did you remember your umbrella?” Kuroo asked, but it didn’t sound much like a question. His voice was teasing and hauty. Because Kuroo already knew the answer. He made a mental note to ignore him for at least an hour for that. 

“It’s in your car, isn’t it.” Kenma huffed, he squirmed in his seat as an elderly lady made eye contact with him. Why did people have to stare so much?

“You left it when I dropped you off this morning.” Kuroo said, his breathing was laboured and there was shouting in the background. He could hear Bokuto yelling something about getting off the phone. “If you’re still on campus I can drive you home after practice? You’ll have to wait around for like another forty-five minutes or so, though.”

“I took a bus.” Kenma responded, quietly. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll get home safe.”

"It's my job to worry about you, Kitten." Kuroo said, there was a softness in his tone that made Kenma's heart flutter. “Hey, what do you want for dinner? I’ll make something when I get home.”

“Surprise me.” Kenma responded honestly. He knew Kuroo knew exactly what he did and did not like to eat. They’d been together long enough that Kuroo didn’t feed him anything he didn’t like. At least not any more. "I'll see you when you get home."

"Okay, love you." Kuroo hummed warmy.

He would never tire of hearing Kuroo say he loved him.

"Love you, too." Kenma breathed. He pulled his phone free and hung up the call. He looked up at nothing in particular and smiled as a warthog filled his tummy.

The bus was starting into a large intersection. He only barely caught it out of the corner of his eye. It was a white delivery truck. One of those privately owned ones. The driver was looking down, he’d dropped something and missed the red light.

It almost felt like time slowed. There wasn’t a lot of time to react. He felt it heart clench in his chest. There was no stopping it. No changed the course of the truck. He just watched in horror as it barreled into the front of the bus. One moment Kenma was sitting up, and the next his body was thrown up against the window on the opposite side of the aisle. He felt blood hot and wet in his ears, in his mouth. Blazing hot pain filled his whole body as he was thrashed around with the tumbling of the bus. It skidded into another car. And then another. And then everything went black.

* * *

Kuroo came home a bit later than he wanted. Bokuto had wanted to put in some extra one-on-one blocking practice and obviously Kuroo obliged. It was eerily quiet and dark when he entered the apartment. _Kenma must be streaming,_ he thought as he set his keys down on the small table by the door. 

He tiptoed quietly into the kitchen. Dinner wasn't going to make itself and Kenma was usually hungry after streaming. Being a professional gamer was surprisingly hungry work. Or so he had learned in the last year since Kenma had made the leap into pro gaming. He couldn't be more proud of him, it was a dream come true and Kuroo had been there every step of the way to support him.

"That's weird," Kuroo thought out loud as he looked through the fridge. Kenma's pie was still on the top shelf. Exactly where Kuroo had left it that morning. Kenma had been really looking forward to it, he had even texted him about it during lunch. About how badly he wished he could be eating apple pie instead of the mushy cafeteria food. He shrugged it off and pulled some mackerel out. Fish, some rice, and maybe a little bit of steamed veggies would be great. Healthy and tasty. Kenma could complain when he learned how to cook.

He made quick work of gutting, scaling, and cleaning the fish. He flavoured it simply with salt and pepper and tossed it into the greased up frying pan. Humming a little tune he washed the rice, and put enough for him and Kenma into the rice cooker. A present from his grandmother. She had told him that no home was complete without one. She was right.

She was the first one to actually accept him, other than Kenma of course, when he had come out in highschool. It was hard when his dad wouldn't even look at him. But his grandmother had just hugged him and told him everything was alright. After his mother passed, his grandmother had taken on a much more motherly roll in his life. He wasn’t sure where he would be without her unconditional love and support throughout the years.

He looked up to the ceiling and let out a sigh. He missed her. In her will she’d left him a ring which was now on Kenma’s finger. He shook off the melancholy thoughts and continued on with his cooking.

The house still seemed too quiet, even over the sizzle of fish in the pan. Kenma wasn’t known to have any serious Gamer Rage, but he did talk during his streams and usually had music playing. Kuroo poked his head around the corner and looked down the hall. No lights were one. Nothing coming from the spare bedroom they had turned into his gaming room slash guest room. His brows furrowed and his lips dipped down into a frown.

Lightly he padded down the hall and stopped just at the last door. He raised his hand to the door and lightly tapped.

“Hey, Kenma, dinner’s almost ready.” He whispered.

There was no response.

 _Must still have his headphones in_.

Kuroo raised his voice, “Kenma? I’m coming in. Okay?”

Still nothing. This wasn’t like him at all.

“Ken-” The door swung open before him and his eyes adjusted to the darkness. Nothing. The room was still and silent All of his monitors were off, his computer tower wasn’t even on. It looked exactly how he had left it that morning.

Kuroo’s brows furrowed into the bridge of his nose. This wasn’t like Kenma at all. He should have beaten Kuroo home. He would have said something if he wasn’t going to be there, he would have texted, called, something. His blood felt cold and slow in his veins.

He let out a chuckle, he was probably lost somewhere. Kuroo always left his phone on silent during practice and hadn’t changed it back since getting home. There were probably a million texts from a very lost, very upset Kenma. Nimbly he slipped his hand into his pants pocket and pulled his phone out. There was a message from Bokuto, but nothing from Kenma.

There was a little red flag in his brain, a dim little shadow telling him everything was not alright. But he kept hopeful and opened the text message. He’d probably left something at practice and Bokuto was just letting him know. Right?

_Did you see the news?_

Wrong.

Kuroo exhaled sharply. Bokuto wasn't usually so articulate. A click away and his phone was ringing.

“Hey,” Bokuto breathed, his voice less chipper than it normally was.

“Is Kenma there?” Kuroo asked hopefully. “He’s not home yet.”

“I’m putting you on speaker,” Bokuto said, his tone was dark. A cold shiver ran down the long length of Kuroo’s spine. Unease filled his being.

“There was a huge accident close to your house. A bus was involved.” Akaashi’s voice rang over the phone speaker.

It felt like a spear through his chest.

“Kenma took a bus home, right?” Bokuto asked. “That’s what you said when you decided to stay late.”

Kuroo wasn’t breathing. There was a lump building in his chest. Cold and hard and dark.

“Yeah.” The word slipped out in a strained breath.

_He’s okay._

“Kuroo, I think,” Akaashi started and Kuroo sharply cut him off.

“I have a phone call coming in, I’ll call you back.” Kuroo barely managed to say through the pounding in his ears. There was a cold feeling in his chest and his head started to spine. “Hello,” he answered coldly.

“Is this Kuroo Testurou?” a woman’s voice asked in a polite professional tone.

“This is.”

“You are listed as Kozume Kenma’s emergency contact. Do you know this man?” she asked.

Kuroo’s head was spinning, the whole room started to wobble and shake. He could barely hear over the blood thumping through his ears. A cold stone lumped in his chest. It felt like suffocating. He reached out and held onto Kenma’s desk for support as his knees started to shake.

“I do.” he responded, the words tumbled out and filled the silence in the room. Everything was too still, too quiet.

 _Please be okay, please be okay, please be okay._ The words played over his mind in an endless stream.

“There’s been an accident. I’m afraid Kozume has been badly injured.” Kuroo’s mind glossed over. She kept talking. Saying words but his mind couldn’t fully make them out. He was given directions to the hospital Kenma was at. _He’s in critical condition_. There was more but Kuroo didn’t want to hear. He needed to be there. Needed to see him. Needed to hold his hand. Something. Anything. Sitting at home was not an option.

* * *

The hospital emergency room was packed. The lineup to the front desk was long. It seemed like there were a lot of people there just like him, waiting for news, waiting for anything. His fists were clenched at his sides, nails digging into the soft flesh of his palms. He had sent a text to Akaashi with directions and a simple _hurry_.

Time marched on in spirts of eternities. How low was the lineup? Why wasn’t it moving any faster? He needed to see Kenma. He needed to know more. Kuroo’s mind was a muddle of pain and worry. In times like this it was Kenma who knew how to calm him down.

Finally he was the next one. He could get answers. The man in front of him was already crying, tears socking his red cheeks. He was asking about a woman and a child. The receptionist's eyes grew dim as she told him to go through into the next waiting room.

Kuroo sat down in the now empty seat.

“What are you here for?” the woman asked. Her eyes were dim and sad and tired. She offered him a weak smile.

“I was called. I’m the emergency contact for Kozume Kenma.” the words spilled out of his mouth in a rush of emotions. Each breath was a labour. His chest was tight and anxious.

Her fingers brushed over the keys quickly.

“Your name?”

“Kuroo Tetsurou.”

“Relation to Mr. Kozume?”

Kuroo frowned.

“He’s my . . . partner.”

There was a flicker of worry over her features which sent his heart reeling.

“No blood relation?”

There it was.

“He doesn’t have any family. I’m not related, but I’m family.” the words came out angrier than she deserved. She was just trying to do her job. But at that moment he didn’t care. He just needed to get past those doors. He needed to know how Kenma was. Needed to see him. Hold him. _Please_.

She let out a little sigh.

“Okay. So you’re cousins.” She said with a knowing nod. Her fingers sprinted over the keyboard once more.

“Uh, yeah, sure.” he breathed.

She gave him a little smile.

“You can go through, Mr. Kuroo.”

“Thank you.”

In a flash he was on his feet and past the doors. There was a long hall with seats on one side. Most were full of people hunched over, a young couple were holding each other crying. He sat down at the closest seat, next to the man who had come in just before him. He was curled over, quietly sobbing into his hands. He was whispering something. A woman’s name.

“Why Hina.” he kept repeating.

Kuroo sat back and leaned his head against the wall wishing it would just swallow him. Time marched on slowly. A nurse went down the line asking questions from each person. It didn’t seem like they were giving out much information yet. Kuroo waited his turn as patiently as he could muster. He pulled his phone out, there were a few missed messages from Akaashi and Bokuto.

Akaashi

_Just arrived - 8:45_

_Waiting room is full - 9:01_

_We’re waiting outside. Did you get in? - 9:06_

Kuroo

_Just waiting for more info - 9:33_

Akaashi

_Okay - 9:34_

Kuroo dropped his phone into his lap and ran his hands through his untamed hair. The bit of fringe falling back in front of his eye. He started nervously massaging his temples. The not knowing was killing him. Was Kenma okay? Was he awake? How bad were his injuries? They had said “severely injured”. How severely? Would he even be allowed to see him? Was he still . . . ?

His heart lurched in his chest and a defining silence filled his ears. _No_ . A cold sweat bubbled up over his skin. The hairs on his arms and neck stood up on end. _He had to be_. His shoulders fell forward and the room began to spin. There was no way. He was still alive. He had to be.

_Kenma. Please, hold on._

The nurse finally got down to the man next to him. He asked for his name and who he was there for. His wife and little baby daughter. He kept asking about them. There was a dark look in the nurse’s eyes that spoke volumes. She just smiled and said the doctors would be talking with everyone soon.

Then it was Kuroo’s turn.

“Name?” the nurse said with a sigh. He seemed like he was tired, worn out. There was a permanent furrow in his brows.

“Kuroo Tetsurou,” Kuroo croaked.

“Who are you here for?”

“Kozume Kenma.”

The nurse nodded.

“The doctor should be out to see you soon.” he said with a click of his pen and moved on to the next person.

* * *


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally finished this chapter! Sorry for the long update time. i was going through some stuff and decided that quiting my job of 6 years was the right thing to do and cried about that for a week. So, yeah, I'm back and angsty af.

It was hours before his name was called. He was pulled into a small office. A middle aged man sat down at the desk, his cheeks were flushed and his forehead was slick with sweat. He had a mountain of paperwork on his desk. He pulled out a file and motioned for Kuroo to sit down.

Kuroo sunk into the chair and let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. His palms were sweaty but his body was cold. 

“Mr. Kuroo Tetsurou, corrected?” Kuroo nodded. “You’re Kozume’s cousin right?” The doctor asked, raising his brows over his thick glasses.

"Third cousin, yeah," he lied. Kuroo’s eyes shifted around the room. He didn't like lying, but telling the truth would mean he might not be able to see Kenma for a while. “I just want to know if he's alive," Kuroo groaned.

The doctor sighed.

"Does he have any immediate family? Parents? Siblings?" The doctor asked, not willing to make eye contact with Kuroo.

"Not really, no."

"Hm."

Kuroo's heart fell in his chest and his shoulders fell forward. He braced himself for the worst.

"He's alive." The doctor's voice came out soft but worried. "However, I must warn you he's not expected to make it through the night."

Kuroo could feel the world stop and crash at his feet. _No_. Kenma was his whole world. His blood stalled in his veins and grew cold. The room started to spin, his stomach started tumbling and twisting inside of him.

"He's suffered heavy brain damage. There is no way to sugar coat it. He's currently on life support." The doctor was speaking quickly, obviously this was a conversation he had had with many of the family members also affected by the massive ten car pileup. "If he has any other family you should call them. He was one of the few that survived the bus crash. Most others on the bus didn't make it. If he makes it through the night it will be a miracle. And if he does make it through the night there is a good chance he could survive. So, don’t give up all hope."

Kuroo wasn't really listening. There was a defining ringing in his ears and a pain so numbing and cold in his chest he thought he might collapse onto the floor right there.

"Can I see him?" Kuroo asked, his voice hoarse and rough and full of pain. It was taking everything in him not to burst into tears.

If he could just see him. Just hold his hand. Say . . . goodbye. No, this wasn't goodbye. It was too soon. Kenma was too young. He had to make it. He just had to. There was a whole life left to live. So many things he still wanted to do and see. His career was finally taking off. He was getting somewhere in his dreams. And then there was each other. The ring on Kenma’s finger. The promise they made each other. This was cruel. It couldn't possibly be the end of everything. Not yet. _Please_.

“Of course.” The doctor breathed. “It will help to have someone he knows there with him."

* * *

Kuroo was led into a small room. The nurse gave him a small sad smile before opening the door. Kuroo felt his heart crushing against the wait in his chest. Kenma looked so small in the large bed. Various tubes and cords were hooked up to him like he was a machine. Bandages covered most of his visible skin. Half of his head was wrapped up in crisp white bandages.

The room smelt like cleaner and hospital, that overly sterile bleach smell that instantly makes you sad. Kenma always smelt good. Like sunshine and sugar and coffee. Probably because he drank so much. But it was home. Kenma was home. This was not at all home. This was cold and foreign and way too stuffy.

There was a little chair next to the bed. The nurse motioned for him to sit down.

"It'll help if you talk to him. Let him know you're here," she said, almost as an afterthought as she was halfway out of the room.

"Thank you," Kuroo choked on the words.

Once she was gone he collapsed into the seat. His heart was beating against his rib cage, but his bleed felt cold. He reached out a shaking hand--had he been shaking this whole time? Kenma's hand was small and limp and cold in his own. Kuroo pulled the chair as close to the bed as he could and rested his head on their intertwined hands and finally let himself cry.

* * *

He awoke to a hand on his shoulder. It was Akaashi. His eyes were puffy and sunken and red. Had he been crying? He was holding a coffee in his other hand, which he pushed towards Kuroo.

"Drink this," he whispered, a husk in his voice that tore at Kuroo's heartstrings. He had definitely been crying.

During their third year of high school when Bokuto and Kuroo had been off to college, Kenma and Akaashi had leaned one each other a lot. They had become rather good friends. Kenma even taught Akaashi how to play video games, much to everyone’s surprise. He'd gotten even better than Kuroo, the little shit. It made him feel a lot better knowing that Kenma hadn’t been alone that year, knowing he had had a friend by his side.

"Thanks," Kuroo replied, hearing his own voice gave him shivers. It was weak and hollow. "Where's Bokuto?" He asked scanning the room and finding him absent.

"I think he's outside. He stepped into the room this morning and . . . he didn't take all of this," he motioned to the machines hooked up to Kenma's body, "very well."

Kuroo let out a dry laugh.

"No kidding."

Akaashi offered a mirthless smile.

"Hungry?"

Kuroo shook his head and released his hand from Kenma's, holding it for hours had caused his hand to cramp. He quickly switched out with his other hand.

"If you need to take a breather I can take over," Akaashi offered, slightly squeezing Kuroo's shoulder. "It might be good to go get a breath of fresh air."

"I'm not leaving him. Not yet." Kuroo croaked, feeling his throat catch on the words as tears pricked his eyes.

"Okay," was the weak response. "They only want one at a time in the room so I'm going to go out now. Text me if you need anything or if there is any change.”

"Of course."

“I’ll bring you some food later, don’t bother fighting me on that."

Kuroo smiled weakly. Akaashi really was a blessing of a human being.

“Okay.”

He turned his gaze back to Kenma as Akaashi slowly left. The man was soundly sleeping, he looked peaceful almost. He let out a long sigh and looked to the small window. Ray's of sunlight split through the closed blinds. It was morning. And Kenma was still alive. This meant there was hope. Right?

"Hold on, Kenma," Kuroo whispered in his lover's ear, "I'm right here. I'll always be right here. By your side. You don’t need to worry."

* * *

A week later they moved Kenma to a new room. He was no longer in critical condition but he was still not conscious. And it didn't look like he would be any time soon. Comas were never a good thing. But the doctors were hopeful that he would recover. It was just a matter of time. Time that Kuroo was not looking forward to waiting out. But if it meant that Kenma could heal in peace, he would wait forever.

Kuroo’s job wasn’t willing to give him any more time off, so back to work it was. It was hard to smile and pretend that everything was alright. His coworkers noticed that something was off but didn’t push the subject after seeing him cry in the break room.

He was always such a cheerful person, smiling and joking and making everyone feel safe and happy. It was strange seeing him look so sad. He loomed in doorways and never seemed to smile, it was like a dark shadow followed him around.

After every shift he would come back to the hospital and sit with Kenma. He vowed he would be there when Kenma opened his eyes.

* * *

Another two weeks passed. The doctor’s face didn’t look as happy when he would see Kuroo shuffling in around seven o’clock every night.

He walked into the small room Kenma luckily didn't have to share with anyone. He was surprised to see Akaashi there, alone. He had pulled the chair away from the back closer to the small window and was reading a book aloud to Kenma. It was a fluffy little tail. Akaashi put the book down when he saw Kuroo enter the room.

“Kuroo-san, I thought I told you to take the night off?” Akaashi said in his usual monotone way of speaking. “I’ll stay with Kenma, you should rest up. You look terrible.”

Kuroo chuckled dryly and leaned against the wall, kicked a foot up behind him and crossed his arms over his chest.

“I would rather be here. It’s too quiet at home.” Kuroo replied. He hung his head down and let out a sigh.

“Koutarou is home, we have a spare room you could always sleep there.” Akaashi offered, he gingerly closed the book with a finger between the pages to keep his place. “You need a shower and a decent night sleep. Kenma is safe with me. I will call you the moment anything changes.”

Akaashi was right. But Kuroo didn’t want to leave.

“Kuroo-san, if you don’t take care of yourself you’re not going to be well when Kenma does wake up.” Akaashi continued. “You’ve been here every single day for the last three weeks. You need some decent sleep.”

“But-”

Akaashi sighed, “But you need to sleep. There are some leftovers in the fridge and I’m sure Koutarou would love the company. You could use the company, too.”

Kuroo groaned and ran his hands through his messy greasy hair.

“Okay.” he said, defeat in his voice. It’s not that he didn’t agree with Akaashi, in fact, he knew he should get some proper sleep and food. He just felt bad about leaving Kenma. He didn't want Kenma to wake up and him not be there.

He closed the gap between him and the hospital bed and leaned down, he pressed a little kiss to Kenma’s cheek. Gently Kuroo squeezed Kenma’s hand, his eyes running over his small face, lacking his usual whispy blond locks. It was bizarre seeing him with a shaved head. During the surgery they had to shave his head so they could stop the bleeding and get to the sizable cut on the back of his head.

Finally, they had removed the bandages and Kutoo could see his whole face again. He wasn’t sure what to make of a bald Kenma. Luckily, it seemed his hair was already starting to slightly grow back. In six months his hair should be past his ears again. He wondered if Kenma would dye it again or leave it black like it was before. 

“He’ll be here tomorrow, Kuroo-san.” Akaashi said softly, a small smile spilling over his lips.

Kuroo looked up and nodded, relief shuttered through his body. Akaashi really was a blessing. He wasn’t sure where he would be or how sane he would be without him there. More than once he had used his strong shoulders as a crying place.

“Thank you, for everything.”

Akaashi simply bowed his head and smiled softly.

* * *

It was very dark out when Kuroo pulled up to Akaashi and Bokuto’s house. It was a small place, one they had gotten together after their four year anniversary. It had two small rooms, a kitchen and a living room. Nothing special, but it was all their own. Kuroo fondly looked back to the housewarming party they had had six months before. A lot of their old teammates had turned out. It was joyous and chaotic. Lev had ended up in the street in only his boxers, Yaku chasing after him shouting profanities, Konoha and Bokuto trying to spike fruit, Akaashi looked like he was going to kill them both. Kenma had even mingled with people a little. It did help that Kuroo had taken his Switch and hidden it in the car. It felt so long ago already.

He let out a laboured sigh and turned the key to stop the engine. It took him a few more moments to pull himself together and exit the car. Part of him felt guilty about leaving Kenma, the other part of him knew Kenma would have yelled at him if he didn’t take care of himself. He didn’t like it when Kenma yelled. It was very rare, and very scary.

Bokuto was waving from the front door, a giant smile on his lips. He was shouting at him and urging him inside. In any other circumstance he would have ran up to him, embraced, and joined in on the shouting. But his body at this point was so utterly tired he didn’t have the physical or emotional energy for that.

He really did try conversing with Bokuto as he quickly scarfed back some leftovers from the dinner Akaashi had mentioned. But his heart wasn’t really in it. Although, Bokuto’s usually cheerful and energetic mood did help raise his spirits a bit. Akaashi was right. Of course Akaashi was right, this did help. He needed a bit of a distraction.

“I’ll set up the spare room for you,” Bokuto said, a big smile on his face. “It’s been ages since you’ve slept over.”

“It’s been since highschool I think.” Kuroo said with a chuckle. Those sleepovers his family were not fond of. They were both way too loud and usually ended up in a lot of trouble. 

_At least when Kenma sleeps over he is always quiet_ , his grandfather would say with a frown and a shake of his head. He wouldn’t even look over the edge of his newspaper at them. Had he known what he and Kenma had gotten up to, he would not have approved of having Kenma spend the night ever again.

Halfway through watching the one corner of the bedsheet keep bouncing up, Kuroo took over making the bed and sent Bokuto out of the room so he could sleep. Bokuto had work in the morning and needed it. His yawning was starting to worry Kuroo.

Kuroo sunk into the sheets. He decided he would shower in the morning. He was way too tired to care about much else. He drifted into a fitful slumber soon after his head hit the pillow.

* * *

Kuroo opened his eyes to the hospital room, his head was resting on the bed close to Kenma’s shoulder. His back was stiff and pained from the hunched over position he had fallen asleep in again. He rubbed his eyes and blinked away the flashing stars in his eyes. Kuroo stretched out his hands feeling the familiar pops of his joints as he let out a substantial yawn.

Sounds of metal clanking and the faint screams of a game Kenma played frequently dances into his ears. Kuroo’s brows furrowed and his eyes started focusing. Sitting at the edge of the bed was Kenma. The Kenma he remembered. His Kenma. Not the comatose, shaved head Kenma that was still lying in the bed. His little pudding headed Kenma.

He was looking at Kuroo over his Switch and smiling, there was a twinkle in his eyes. But there was something sad and dark behind that soft happy expression that made Kuroo’s heart lurch in his chest. Kuroo blinked blankly back at him. This must be a dream. A wild dream. And he was definitely going crazy.

“Hey, Kuro,” Kenma said softly, his voice barely over a whisper. 

“Kenma.” Kuroo breathed, still in the weird dazed shock.

“Mhm.”

“But . . .” Kuroo motioned to the comatose Kenma in bed.

“Ah, yes, my body.” Kenma’s brow shot up into his forehead. “They shaved my head. I don’t like that.” He set the game system down and crossed his arms over his chest. “At my funeral can you please get them to put a wig on me? I don’t like how I look bald.”

Kuroo shook his head, his face contorting in confusion.

“No.”

“Well, that’s just rude.” Kenma said with a humph.

“No, because you’re not going to die, Kenma!” Kuroo shouted. The chair came flying out from under him as he abruptly stood up. There was anger and pain in his eyes.

Kenma huffed.

Kuroo breathed heavily in the stillness, save for the sounds of beeping hospital monitors. Kenma slowly shifted off of the bed and onto his bare feet. He took Kuroo’s large hands in his. The shorter man gently held them there for a long moment, looking them over and kneading his fingers into Kuroo’s fingers.

“Kuro, I’m . . .” he voice caught on the words and when he looked up Kuroo could see speckles of tears in his yellow eyes. “I’m already gone.” The words tumbled out of his mouth and landed somewhere in between them like a rift in space.

“You can’t,” Kuroo’s voice trembled, “you can’t leave.”

Kenma pulled Kuroo closer, sinking his face into the soft folds of Kuroo’s shirt. 

“You won’t like what wakes up.” he said, pulling away and looking up into Kuroo’s eyes, “I’m already gone. That is just a body. Nothing more.”

“I need you.”

Kenma sighed and hugged Kuroo closer.

“I know. I know. I’m sorry.”

“Then don’t go.”

Kuroo watched as his tears dropped into Kenma’s hair. He stepped back and pushed Kuroo’s arms off.

“I’m already gone.” Kenma gave a sad little smile. “I will always love you. I’m sorry, but I have to go now. Don’t miss me too bad.”

“Kenma, no, please.” Kuroo reached out and grabbed Kenma’s shoulders. His body, or spirit maybe, felt soft under his fingers. Like it wasn’t really real. Just a cloud in front of him in the shape of his partner. “You have so much left to do. You can't leave now.”

Kenma blinked back tears.

“You won’t like it. The me that you get back. You won’t like him.”

“I don’t care. I can‘t lose you,” Kuroo was crying now. Hot salty tears streamed down his cheeks. How could Kenma say this? How could Kenma leave so easily? This wasn’t fair.

“Kuro.” Kenma reached out and took Kuroo’s hands in his, “I’m sorry.”

His body evaporated into smoke before Kuroo’s eyes and he was left alone with the deafening screams of hospital monitors.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kenma doesn't die, I won't leave you guys with that kind of cliff hanger, but you'll see what I mean later. The angst train has just entered the station. I am sorry for the tears that you have probably cried throughout this chapter.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kenma finally wakes up, but isn't the same as Kuroo remembers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think it's been a month since I've posted anything. I lost internet access for a month so writing was the least of my concerns. I've also been in the process of moving. good times. At any rate, I do have this completed chapter.

At first it was blindingly bright. White light flooding over his eyes. It hurt. He blinked back the brightness. It dimmed slowly as his eyes adjusted to the light. He scanned his surroundings hungrily. He found himself in a small, tidy room. There was a window and an empty chair pulled close to the bed. Where was he? What was all of this?

He tried to move his neck first to get a better view of his location. But everything felt too stiff. Maybe something smaller? What was smaller? What was small? His brain had all these words but he wasn’t quite sure what they all meant. He knew that the flat surface on all sides of him were walls. He knew that the opening on that wall was a window. And the other opening was a door. He wasn’t sure why he knew that or what it was supposed to mean, but when he looked at them, those were the words that popped into his head.

The door opened and a tall, dark haired man shuffled in. He had something in his hand. It was a cup. At least that’s the word that came to mind. The man made eye contact with him, and his face did something weird. His eyes grew wide and his mouth gaped open. He wasn't sure what that meant. And then a word popped into his head: surprise. The man was surprised.

“You’re awake!” the man shouted. His voice was deep and, what was that emotion, happy? He sounded happy. At least that was the word that he thought of first.

The man rushed over. He had these strange yellow eyes that wrinkled when he smiled. Who was this man with the roaster hair?

“I’m so happy. I don’t know what to do. How are you?” The man was talking too fast.

He just blinked back at him. How to talk to the stranger? And did he  _ have _ to talk to him? He wasn’t even sure how to formulate words.

The man started to look concerned. His smile faded. Was he looking at the man weird? Was he supposed to say something? It's not like he knew the tall roaster haired man. Come to think of it, there weren't any people in his head. No faces, just a deep dark void where he was sure there should be something.

“I’ll go get the doctor.” His voice was deeper this time, and not as happy. He set his cup down on the table next to the bed and practically ran out of the room. He stopped just at the door and looked back. The stranger’s yellow eyes racking over his face, he smiled softer than before. And then he was out the door.

* * *

“I was afraid of this,” Dr. Ito said gruffly. He massaged his temples slightly as he sat in his office. There were scans of Kenma’s brain hanging from the wall behind him. There were dark spots of damage at the back of his head. “With him mostly unresponsive it’s difficult to tell how severe the memory loss is. It’s very likely he will need to relearn how to speak, read, everything.”

Kuroo had stopped listening. His mind was reeling. This was almost worse than death. Kenma was awake, but he was not awake at the same time. He just stared at him with nothing in his eyes. They were blank and soulless.

Flashes of his dream from nights before danced through his mind.  _ You won’t like what wakes up. _ He remembered Kenma saying. But it was just a dream. Right?

He had woken up in a panic and called Akaashi, the younger man told him that nothing had changed. Kenma was still fast asleep and the monitors hadn’t changed. It was just a dream and he needed to go back to sleep.

But Kuroo couldn’t shake the feeling that it wasn’t  _ just a dream _ . There was something so real and tangible about it. He felt like he had been there, in that room, with Kenma. He could smell the hospital, feel the warmth from Kenma’s body, the softness of his hair, the tenderness in his hands when he touched him. It couldn't have just been a dream.

“So, what can we do?” Kuroo asked.

Dr. Ito shook his head and let out a deep breath.

“Talk to him. Maybe it will trigger things. We’ll run more tests, but you knew him rather well, having you talk to him will help. At least that has always helped in my experience.”

* * *

The dark haired man came back. He was smiling again. He did that a lot.

“Hey, Kenma.”

That was his name. They told him his name was Kozume Kenma. He was a college student in his last year. That was supposed to mean something. It did not.

It had been two weeks since he had woken up. Time was irrelevant, but that was how long the roaster haired man had told him had passed. He still wasn’t talking. He wasn’t sure if it was because he couldn't or if it was because he didn’t want to. The yellowed eyed stranger wanted him to talk. Kuroo. His name was Kuroo. Kuroo tetsu-something. He hadn’t been listening. There had been a little yellow bird on the windowsill when he was introducing himself and it was hopping along and picking at a twig.

“I brought you something,” Kuroo said. It was a small black book with a red ribbon tied around it. He set it down on the bed next to Kenma’s hand.

He was sitting up in bed, a nurse named Haruka had helped him. She had propped a bunch of pillows behind him so he could sit up on his own. He wasn’t strong enough yet to sit up by himself.

She was nice and smiled a lot too. Kuroo came around almost as often as she did.

Kuroo set another little package down on top of the book.

“It’s some colored pens. So you can draw or write. If . . . if you want,” Kuroo’s brows pushed into his eyes and his nose scrunched up and he pressed his lips into a line. Kenma thought that emotion might be called  _ nervous _ .

The corner of Kenma’s mouth pulled up into a smile. It was a weird reflex. He hadn’t intended to do that. He’d been having these weird reflexes recently. Like the motion to pull hair out of his face he didn’t have.

He reached out and pulled the book and pens into his lap. Daintily he undid the ribbon and opened the book. The pages were clean and lined with little blue lines. In the top corner was a little cat toying with a ball of yarn. He ran his hand along the page, it was smooth beneath his fingertips.

“Do you like it?” Kuroo asked. He had sat down in the chair next to the bed. He had his elbows propped up on the bed and his head resting in his hands.

He was much more familiar with Kenma than everyone else, but he wasn’t sure why. No one had told him. In fact he knew practically nothing about what was going on. He knew his name, the dark haired man’s name, the nurses name, and the doctor’s name. Those were the only faces he had seen since waking up.

Kenma nodded at Kuroo. He had seen Kuroo do this to Dr. Ito. He thought it meant yes. And when Kuroo smiled he knew he was right.

“I’ll open the pens for you. The packaging might be difficult. Dr. Ito said your motor functions aren’t very good.”

Kuroo pulled the box of pen off of Kenma’s lap and quickly pulled open the tabs and slid a few pens out. Kenma looked them over, words popping into his head as he eyed each one. They were each a different color, blue, red, green, yellow, and purple. He was drawn to the red one first.

Kuroo looked up from the pens and his lips turned up and his eyes lit up.

Kenma blinked in response.

_ Red is pretty,  _ he thought.

“Try writing something.” Kuroo suggested.

Kenma clicked the bottom of the pen and a little ballpoint popped out of the top. It was instinctive and weird. He had no memory of ever doing that, but his hands knew what to do. He stared at the page hoping that his hands would know what to do.

_ Kenma _

He stared at the word he had scratched across the page in confusion. It was wobbly written and slippy, but it was a word. Kenma looked at Kuroo, confusion in his eyes.

“That’s your name,” Kuroo answered, his voice was soft.

Kenma nodded.

_ My name is Kenma. _

He wrote beneath the first word. He smiled in satisfaction. He wasn’t sure why he was satisfied, but the joy it brought the yellow eyed stanger made him happy.

* * *

After that Dr. Ito told him to write in the book every day. Any time he thought about something, or wanted to communicate, he should write it in the book. He had looked happy too.

More time passed and another stranger came into his room. This man was slightly shorter than Roaster Hair Kuroo. He had soft sad blue eyes and a plain expression. He sat down next to the bed and didn’t say anything at first. Kuroo was talking. He was always talking. Kenma was sure it was because he didn’t like the silence. But, he had to admit there was something soothing about hearing Kuroo speak.

“Well, I’ll leave you two to have fun. I have to work tonight so I’ll see you tomorrow, Kenma.” He smiled and waved and was gone a moment later leaving the small room quiet again.

“Kuroo never introduced us,” the man said, shaking his head, there was slight irritation but also amusement in his tone. “I’m Akaashi Keiji.”

Kenma nodded. He still was speaking. At this point he wasn’t sure if it was fear that was holding him back or the inability to. The doctors had tried to get him to talk but it hadn’t been helpful. Apparently he used to speak? Not that he had any memory of that.

He wasn’t sure why this man was here. Was he another doctor?

_ Why are you here? _

Kenma jotted down in his notebook and passed it to the man named Akaashi.

“Oh, uh, we were friends.” He said slowly, mulling over each word.

There it was again. Another person who knew him. Knew him before whatever had happened to make his mind go blank. Another secret keeper. Another question to be left unanswered. There were so many things that he wasn’t being told. So many things he didn't know. There were so many things he feared he might never know.

“Have they talked about what happened?” Akaashi asked, he had a sad but kind look on his face. He wondered how well they had known each other for him to have guessed what he was thinking.

Kenma shook his head.

“There was an accident.”

Kenma nodded. That much he did know.

“You were in a coma for a month. I came by often and watched over you.” Akaashi added the last part with a bitterness in his voice that made Kenma’s chest hurt. “Kuroo was here every day.”

Akaashi shifted in his seat, keeping his eyes on Kenma.

“We’ve known each other for years. Around six years actually.” He continued on. Talking didn’t seem to come as easily to him as it did for Kuroo. “I’m sorry it took me so long to come see you after you woke up.”

Kenma wasn’t sure how to respond to that. He didn’t remember the man, so why would he be sad to have not seen him? But it was clear that it upset Akaashi that he hadn’t come to see him yet. How long had he been awake?

“I’m not sure what to say.”

That made two of them. So they sat there in silence for a while. Kenma watched him. He wished that he knew him. Wished for there to be some sort of an emotional response to seeing him. But there was nothing in his mind. It was like staring into a void, a hazy misty void filled with a pain he didn’t want to touch.

“Have you been outside yet?” Akaashi finally broke the silence.

Kenma shook his head.

_ Haven’t been out of bed. _

Akaashi looked over the notebook and sighed.

“Oh.”

He looked like he wanted to keep talking, but he stayed silent. Akaashi Keiji was very different from Kuroo. Where Kuroo was talkative and sunny, Akaashi was quiet and shy. Kuroo was energetic and Akaashi was calm. How had he become friends with such wildly different people.

_ What am I like? _

Akaashi’s eyes widened for a moment before something like a smile crept over his lips, but his eyes were sad.

“You’re quiet. But not all the time. Just around people you don’t know. You and I are actually a bit alike in that regard. You’re not quiet around Kuroo. He always manages to make you talk.” He chuckled lightly. “You don’t like using a lot of energy. People tend to think that means you’re lazy, but that’s not it. You like to use your mind over your might.”

A little jingle coming from the litup phone in his lap pulled his attention away from Kenma.

“Sorry, I have to get this.” Akaashi frowned and put the phone to his ear. “Hey, Koutarou.”

* * *


End file.
